The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 45

A crisis brings out a whole new side to people. Some jump into action, taking control of the situation, while others shut down, shocked into silence, immobile. And even though you hope to be a "I do well in a crises" person, you never know which one you will be until something big happens, like a terrible final exam you didn't prepare for.

Andrew hitting the floor sparked a freeze. A deep, jaw clenching silence split across the room until the only sound was Andrew's attempts to breathe, each breath ragged and broken.

People became stuck, wide eyed sculptures. Then, some unfroze, seeming capable of only moving their mouths, chattering loudly, suggesting ideas that were unhelpful, hoping that their voices would save all, while a final few dove into action, thawing back into sanity.

I was moving, yanking at the bottom of my dress to keep it out of my way as I struggled over to Andrew, kneeling at his side. His eyes were closed, face pale against his dark lashes. The blood that coated his temple had made its way through his hair, ink black and deep red, horrible and strangely beautiful, and I hated it as it moved down his face, the blood a sharp contrast to his complexion. His lips began to turn blue as he struggled to breathe.

No. No. No. No.

"Andrew!" Luke shouted, suddenly beside me as I reached for Andrew's face. His skin was drenched in sweat. A rash had worked up his neck, his veins dark against his now pale skin.

"Is it allergies?" someone squeaked as I scrambled to feel for the pulse along his neck. It was there but it was erratic, unsteady, a weak thing that left me wanting to scream. His heart, normally strong and steady was a ghost of it's normal self.

"Not allergies," Luke said, shaking his head emphatically, voice wavering. "His dairy allergy doesn't do this."

I turned to take in the room. Everyone stood staring down at Andrew, their faces frozen in horror. I scanned the faces, searching for one in particular. The person I never thought I would ever need to call for. "Aiden."

"Here," he replied, already beside me, making me jump. He scanned Andrew, brow pinched, face filled with uncertainty. A look that did little to calm my inner panic. He took Andrew's pulse, and Aiden's face— normally a stoic, angry thing— flashed with concern.

"We need to get him to the hospital," Aiden said into the silence, voice commanding.

Grandfather Walker's voice cut through our conversation as he hobbled over, leaning on his cane, red fingers shaking. "Calling our doctor will be faster. Let's get him upstairs."

Luke sucked in a breath, looking as pale as Andrew at the mention of being sick upstairs, his mind flashing to his father. "The doctor isn't here," Luke whispered, voice cracking.

"We can wait," Grandfather Walker insisted. "It will be okay Luke. It has to be."

I shook my head as Andrew took in a rasping breath, a clear struggle, his fingers scrambling for purchase on anything, attempting to anchor himself to the here and now. "He can't breathe," I replied, gripping Andrew's hand, his fingers squeezing mine so tight that I was left momentarily stunned into silence, unable to think clearly.

I don't know how to fix this, Andrew. What do I do? How do I save you?

"I called the doctor," Lindsey Walker said, eyes full of tears. "He's on the way."

A wild idea suddenly yanked at me, shooting me into action again. I buried my fingers into my dress, searching for my pockets. "Luke, other than his dairy allergy, does Andrew have any others?"

Luke ran his fingers through his hair, fingers trembling. "No. Nothing—"

I hurried on. "Thyroid problems?" I shuffled through the large fabric of the dress, a mad dash to find the pockets, eyes on my task. "He used to have pre diabetes, but never diabetes right?"